The Eyes of the Unseen
by SnowFallsSilverOnRoute37
Summary: My twist on the story of La Resistance- a battle, almost poetic in its fierce symbolism, for freedom from censorship, cruelty and oppression. Also, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut is the best friggin' movie EVER! Told from the point of view of Dawn (OC).
1. The Dawn of all Unholiness

Good God, he's amazing.

HE is.

SHE, on the other hand, is just a little ho.

But maybe I'm jealous.

Alright, now I'm being confusing. Let me start at the beginning.

My name is Dawn (yeah, the Dawn of all unholiness). Dawn Sinclair.

I am nine years old.

I have dumb gingery (not that gorgeous dark red, but stupid bright orange. I stand out like a goth at Woodstock wherever I go) straight hair that flops over one eye and goes down to my butt and won't do anything else unless I either shave it or tie it up. The latter is easier for me.

And braces.

And a terrible sense of style.

And gigantic freaky grey eyes. Not green. That'd be cool. But they're grey. Just grey.

I moved to this town, What's-it-called, North- East- SOUTH. South Park, a couple days ago.

I'm actually enjoying it a lot. It's so quiet here, and everyone knows everyone else.

The schools are- _meh. _But I don't mind, I like to make new friends either way.

Anyway, it's really cold here (it always is) so after school and on Sunday mornings everyone goes ice-skating at Stark's Pond.

I can't skate for poop.

It's Sunday today, I went over to the pond because I heard he'd be there. Wendy would have showed me to skate, but I refused because she had pissed me off earlier, and sat on the snow, not caring about my butt being frozen off because it meant I could sneak some quick glances at him.

_Him._

__Except a minute ago, Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick (three boys who I am neutral towards) and Eric Cartman (a sadistic, racist, narcissistic, xenophobic fat-assed rat of a kid) came running toward us, yelled something about a Terrance and Phillip movie. Terrance and Phillip, by the way, is a stupid show that revolves around farting.

Actually Stan wasn't yelling, he was standing there making moony eyes at Wendy. Stupid ho. With her shimmering dark hair and her perfect double spin-skate-jump things. Why can't she be with Stan, instead of...

And she noticed and skated over to say hi and he vomited all over her. Serve her right. Anyway _he _joined them and they both mingled with the crowd vying to learn more about the new movie which I don't give a crap about.

I stayed in my spot- a wise choice, because now he was directly in my line of vision and golden curls and aquamarine eyes clouded my mind and blue gorilla curtain TV laundry hamper blanket... what were we talking about?

My point is, he's gorgeous. And, as he will not hesitate to remind anyone who doesn't ask, he had a 4.0 grade average at Yardale, whatever that means. And that ACCENT! Okay, I mean, he's got that going for him. Anyone British is automatically adored. But it's not just that. The way he speaks to people flawlessly without stuttering or anything.

And his NAME is cute, too.

Gregory.

It just _rolls _off your tongue.

_Grrrrreeeeegorrrreeeeeeeeeee ._

_Greg._

Gregster.

I should never get a job in the nickname-creating field.


	2. Gandalf and Ginger Abuse

**MONDAY**

I looked up the movie on Wikipedia, just so I'd know what all the crap is about.

"Asses of Fire", it's called.

And even though I HATE FARTS (and queefs, just to clear that stereotype up), I have to admit that the lead song,

"Uncle Fucka", has some kick-buns vocals! The lyrics amuse me too, just up to the rhythmic farting, which I resent.

But now all of the other kids have started to swear randomly. I mean, I find it funny- things like "Eat penguin shit, you ass-spelonker"- but OBVIOUSLY people are gonna get caught.

Actually, they have. Kyle, Stan, Eric and Kenny are in Mr Mackey's (or Mr M'kay as I call him) office because today- Monday- Eric told Mr Garrison (our indifferent, sexually confused teacher) to suck his balls. Which I don't think he'd have minded if it were meant literally.

Being a paedophile.

And gay.

And all that.

But now I'm being perverted. As a matter of fact people have compared me to Kenny because of it, which I find ridiculous because I, for one, never have any idea what he's saying. I mean, the others are always like

"Eew, sick Kenny!" WHEN ALL HE'S DONE IS MUMBLE SOMETHING!

Anyway, today the most amazing thing happened! Mr Garrison asked us to pronounce a word he wrote on the board; "Pansexuality", and define it. Seriously, what the hell kind of stuff is this for third-graders to learn?! Whatever. So what happened is only Gregory raised his hand (Kenny started laughing, though), but I did it too when I saw him.

Garrison called on me and I got it right; "Pan-sex-you-ahl-it-ee. Being attracted to any and all sexes/sexual orientations, such as straight people, homosexuals, transsexuals and the like." AND GREGORY STARED DAGGERS AT ME!

Actually that should have upset me but the point is HE PAID ATTENTION TO ME!

Later after class he walked out the door hand in hand with Wendy, and I followed them seething quietly.

Wendy turned her head and simply spoke; "We'll see you on Tuesday, Carrot Head."

Say, can we talk about my hair again? People tell me I'm lucky because red hair never grays, it just turns white. Yay. I'll look that much more like fuckin' Gandalf when I'm eleventy-two.

Why am I never that funny in front of the British god-boy?

But the point is WENDY MADE FUN OF MY VIBRANT HAIR IN FRONT OF GREGORY!

THAT IS FLAGRANT GINGER ABUSE!

I mean, Eric did too, and that stung pretty bad but Wendy was my friend up to when I ignored her...

And started to give her filthy looks...

Whenever she was with...

OOOoooohhhhhhh.

That explains it.

It's her own fault for being with the guy I adore.

Is it my fault for never talking to him?

One simply does not speak to a movie-star-beautiful boy with an equally so girlfriend.

Urgh, this is all too confusing!

**TUESDAY**

****I think she can sense my heartache.

She's DRAPING herself all over him whenever I come near.

She's- She's...

She's KEEPING HIM CAPTIVE is what.

And to add to my troubles I've been judged as "too smart to take English" even though I'm not. Is it the braces? The hair? The fact that I don't hesitate to answer Garrison's messed-up questions? Is that perceived as smart? Not perverted? Okay then.

So for an hour each school day I get locked into a room with a bunch of French text-books.

With no teacher.

Except today something even more amazing happened.

Who'd have thunk it, Gregory came in.

Apparently to pick up a textbook.

He caught sight of me falling asleep on my desk (the only one) and laughed that charming laugh of his.

"You too, eh?"

Groggy, having just been woken from my school-induced slumber, I answered the lamest thing my brain could have cursed me with.

"Me too, compadre." WHICH HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING.

I looked up, fully noticing I had uttered this pure, undiluted lameness toward the Adonis in front of me.

"I- I mean... I wasn't..." Thanks, brain. Thanks, mouth. Make me say something retarded and then forsake me.

That's cool.

"Well, er... have fun."

He picked up the book and, smiling slightly, walked out of the door.

Wait, no he didn't.

Walking out of the door would mean he has the ability to move through solid objects.

He walked out the DOORWAY.


End file.
